We had an ultrasound, and it was a profound relief to see the heart beat and know that as of now, all development is proceeding on track.

I’ve noticed that telling people you’re pregnant starts to feel significantly more logistical and less romantic by the third time. Or maybe it’s more that after my miscarriage, I’ve been hesitant to get my hopes up.

Mikhail’s never been wedded to the wait-12-weeks-before-you-tell phenomena, and I decided I wanted to share the news earlier this time. The reality is if I’m going to write openly and honestly about a miscarriage, why not write about the pregnancy? I’ve also been thinking how for women like me, who have difficult first trimesters, it kind of sucks to feel that there’s a societal expectation that you’re supposed to keep early pregnancy a secret. When you’re sick and exhausted and burrowed into hibernation, it helps to have all the support you can get from friends and family who love you and might feel like dropping off a home-cooked meatloaf.

And as you can see from the photo, my body doesn’t really believe in keeping secrets.

So here we go – wowee! – and Happy Spring full of bloom…